Well, there were quite a few tears this morning, as Hayes headed off to his first day of daycare — none of them were his. Yes, it was tough dropping him off. It’s not that I’m anti-daycare. His is quite nice — with very friendly and seemingly attentive people. No, it’s more that it’s a big change from having a nanny entirely focused on his entertainment and safety to going to a group daycare situation.

Thus the crying. I know, I’m a wuss. Yup, when I had long hair, you could even get away with calling me “sensitive ponytail guy.” Man… Anyway, I don’t think I got the chance to tell them that he needs his blanket to get to sleep. I also am not sure if they thought I was crazy telling them I had to leave because I was crying.

What made it even harder is that H’s new word is Dada. Which he calls to me when I get out of his line of sight. Fortunately, he didn’t use that one as I dropped him off. He was unusually shy, though, and huddled close to my legs pointing at the kids and saying “‘dat?” (”what’s that?”). When finally he left my legs, it was for a book, and then he only took it and raced out of the room and down the hall. After what seemed like 15 minutes, but was probably closer to 1, he finally ventured in to make some introductions. That’s about when I thought I might explode in tears, so I headed for the door.

Now, I’m back at work. It seems somehow comforting. I’m going to try to leave early to see the boy before he gets to bed. I’ll have more on the move, which went very well, and the house, which is f’n awesome later this week. For now, I’m going to do some work and get my mind off H.